


The Bard and the Wolf

by AnnaTheBard



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M, Female Protagonist, Modded Skyrim, Original Character(s), Skyrim Romance Mod, immersive npcs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-19 15:20:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16537136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaTheBard/pseuds/AnnaTheBard
Summary: Anna, a young Nord, sets out to become a bard, preferably the most famous of her generation. During her travels she gets entangled into Skyrim's most dreadful disaster of the Fourth Era: The Dragon Crisis. Will Anna fulfill her destiny, as foretold in the Elder Scrolls? What role will her companion, the ranger with the wolfish grin and mysterious origins, play during the course of events?





	1. The Adventure Begins

17th of Last Seed, 4E 201

I woke to the sound of birds chirping on the beams of my patchy roof above me. My eyes slowly grew accustomed to the bright sunlight falling through the cracks in the wooden walls of my tiny shack. It was a beautiful day in Eastmarch; I couldn't spot a single cloud in the blue sky from a quick glance through the tiny window above my bed. Stretching and still yarning, I decided to get up, put on the few items of clothing I owned and pack a little travel bag; today would be a good day for the start of my greatest adventure. 

Indeed, it was a blessing that I owned very little; I only had to pack a few apples, a loaf of bread, a slice of goat cheese, a skin of water, a small purse of gold coins, and my two greatest treasures: a wooden, worn-down lute and a book that looked rather like it belonged into a ruin than the keeping of a young girl like me. The lute and the book were the last memories I had of my old life, the time before I couldn't bear my parents any longer. There was no need to spoil this perfect day with tainted memories, though, so I focussed on remembering that I would use these items to create my own legacy; I would become the greatest bard Skyrim had ever known. The last things I needed now were my cloak and dagger. I was about to grab them when suddenly the world seemed to grow quiet. Even the loudest chirps from my rooftop stopped in a heartbeat. How curious, it was only early midday. This could only mean danger ahead.

As silent as I could, I threw the cloak around my shoulders and pulled the iron dagger from its sheath. I lowered myself and almost crouched to the door in an attempt of being sneaky. I didn't know yet what would await me outside of the shack, but I expected it to be a wolf, maybe three at most. I lived in the wilderness of Eastmarch after all, directly next to the Black River; coming across prey and predator alike as they made their way to the flowing water to drink was a daily occurence. 

Suddenly I froze, I was sure I had heard a deep rumble directly on the other side of the wood panels. Wolves would growl, yes, but not like this. This foe was very heavy and big, dragging along on slow paws ... and then it pulled down my door. A brown cave bear was standing in my doorway, barring the only exit out of my home. It looked me directly in the eyes, sizing me up just as I did with it. I knew I barely had a chance against this specimen, armed only with my old dagger, and it knew, too. The bear charged at me and I tried to dodge him, only to be hit by its right forepaw and pinned to the ground. The impact threw my breath out of my lungs and made me dizzy; I almost dropped my only weapon but in the last moment tightened my grip and with swindling energy, I pulled the tip right through the paw. The bear reared up again, roaring in pain. I quickly soaked in enough air to get up and run for the door. Before the bear recovered from my surprise attack and could come after me again, I was long gone.

I took the game trail along the river and hiked for about an hour until I came across a well-known rock that signed me to turn right, into the yellow grassland and towards the main road connecting Windhelm and Riften. I sat down, deciding to take a short break and catch my breath. It was a close call and somehow I had a feeling in my guts that this was some kind of sign; that the bear almost brought my death and certainly made me flee my latest home ... I checked on my gear and was glad to see I didn't leave anything behind in my haste to flee and the dagger was still intact, too. The sun was now standing at its highest point, which meant it was time for me to move on. I still had about one or two hours of wandering to go before I reached my destination: Braidwood Inn at the tiny miner village of Kynesgrove. As I walked up the short flight of stairs I smelled the usual mix of burning coal from the smelters and fresh baked bread from the inn. Opening the door, I noticed no patrons except a Stormcloak soldier in a ragged armor sitting at the bar, talking animatedly to Iddra, the innkeeper. I edged closer and snapped up only a few words before the soldier drank up, took his battleaxe and left. I laid down my backpack, took the now vacant seat at the bar and looked into Iddra's familiar face.

"Hey Iddra, please hand me the usual, I have to tell you about my day. And then I wish you would tell me about the conversation you just had. Any news about the rebellion?" 

"Anna! Good to see you again. Yes, there are news indeed. Ulfric Stormcloak fled Helgen, with his head firmly on his shoulders."

"What? But I thought the Empire finally caught him at the border? Executioner ready at Helgen and so on?"

"Yes, but that soldier just told me that ... ah, it sounds so unreliable. "

I had that strange feeling spreading in my tummy again. What could have happened that the leader of the rebellion was still alive after all he did and why did it seem to be so relevant to me right now when I didn't care the last few years? "Iddra, please, go on. I want to know how safe the country is right now."

"Huh, do you plan to venture out? Did you finally decide that Braidwood Inn isn't big enough to host you anymore, hm? You know, Kjeld and I made bets on when that would happen." She gave me a wink as she handed me a mug of selfbrewed ale. I winked back.

"No, I still wanted to play here today. But I just lost my home to a ferocious bear. And yeah, why not admit it, I want to see more of Skyrim's inns. So, what's the news?"

Iddra slighty pulled a grimace and said in a low voice, although there was no one else around to eavesdrop: "That soldier told me that Helgen was burned down by a dragon, just as Ulfric approached the executioner's block. Odd, isn't it? The Stormcloaks and the Imperial troops both got scattered during the attack and the stragglers are just coming in. Ulfric actually arrived in Windhelm earlier today. So the Old Bear of Windhelm is back again and the Civil War is going to rage on." 

Suddenly it hit me and my feeling of sickness made sense. A bear attacks and chases me from my home just as Ulfric Stormcloak, whose sigil is a roaring bear, comes back to Eastmarch and brings the war with him again. Indeed, this might be a sign of the gods. Just where would I head to now? 

"Very strange indeed, Iddra. Now, what else happened while I got almost klled by a cave bear?"

"Oh, I've got some good news for you as well. I heard from a traveller coming from Windhelm that a new bard is currently residing in Candlehearth Hall. He is supposed to be quite skilled with his lute, strikingly good looking and as charming as a prince. I thought he might interest you, you know, to learn more about being a bard. Honestly, you can't go on only ever playing here! We barely have visitors except for the miners and the bunch knows all your songs by heart already. You deserve a change of tapestry and a new audience to impress."

My heart opened for Iddra's words. She was like a mother to me after I had fled my real family. Iddra would not only often let me play in her inn, but also supply me with food and small amounts of gold since she couldn't properly pay a real bard's fee. It would make me sad to leave her for a while, but I knew I was always welcome again and greater adventure was awaiting me.

"I thank you for the drink, Iddra Farewell, and so long, I guess." A tear slid down her left cheek as she hugged me tight and padded me on the back. "Anna, you know, you will always be welcome here. You are like another daughter for me. Please take care on the roads, the war is resuming with Ulfric back in Windhelm and I couldn't stand to lose you. I am proud of you. Godspeed!" 

I shouldered my things again and headed for the door. Waving a last time at Iddra I moved out onto the road again, this time going north. Windhelm was waiting for me and I started to feel free, able to make my own fortune.


	2. Alec, Prince of Song

17th of Last Seed, 4E 201

The sun was setting over the Eastern bay of the Sea of Ghosts and turning the snowy mountains a glowing, pinkish orange. A slight wind blew in my face, but else the weather was calm and the skies clear. I passed over the last hill and could now see the river Yorgrim and behind it the ancient walls of Windhelm. If I weren't almost freezing I would probably stop to enjoy the sight. Instead I hurried on, going at the fastest pace the snow-trod ground of the main road connecting Windhelm to the Rift allowed; my ragged breath steaming before me. A sudden memory of my last visit to Windhelm crossed my mind; as kids my brother Oskar and I had come along with my father to help sell our produce at the market. We were laughing at Father's vegetable jokes and playing hide-and-seek between the weather-beaten buildings of the city. This was before the disappearance of Oskar, before my parents lost themselves in depression and stopped caring for me, before the Civil War tore our home land apart. Remembering the loss of happiness brought tears to my eyes, so I banned the memory before I could fully cloak myself in nostalgia. A crying woman alone on the road was no unusual sight during this war, but nontheless it showed weakness and vulnerability and asked for being questioned, and I needed none of that. 

I pulled my grey fur cloak closer around me so that I still was able to move but only my face could be seen, not exactly calm looking but passable, and approached the main city gate. A gate guard stopped me and called: "Halt! ... oh, a Nord woman! Are you here to join the efforts of war and do your duty to your folk and our good jarl and righteous High King, Ulfric Stormcloak?" 

"No." 

He threw me a look of utter disbelief and I knew he thought me a coward. But I would never take side in a war fought between brothers and sisters. There was no winning in that, only more loss. 

"State your business then!"

"I am a travelling bard and only wish to stay at Candlehearth Hall for the night." I pointed at my lute strapped to my back.

He checked my backpack and opened the gate for me. I passed through and again remembered the last visit with my father. Back then there was no need for bag controls as there was nobody attempting to assassinate the jarl of Eastmarch. The people were happy, as was our family, and not desperately afraid of attacks and cloaked strangers in the night. 

Before the entrance to Candlehearth Hall I came across two Nords threatening a Dunmer. Another sight you wouldn't have seen here ten years ago ... Windhelm has hold Dunmer refugees for over 200 years, coupled to a lot of distrust already, but never before were they openly assaulted on the streets and implied to be spies. I asked the Dunmer if she was okay and needed help, but she brusquely pushed me away after seeing I was a Nord myself and went down to the Grey Quarter. She was probably afraid I wanted to mock her further. Shrugging, I went to the door of Candlehearth Hall and went inside.

Immediately the heat and hazy light made me feel warm and welcome again. The bar was full with patrons talking to the barmaid and from the mead room upstairs I could hear merry singing and laughter. There was always more than one bard playing here as Candlehearth Hall was one of the most famous inns and known as a safe haven for musicians and writers, basically the last bastion of warmth and entertainment against Skyrim's harsh northern coldness. I approached the elderly barmaid and introduced myself: "Good evening, my name is Anna and I would like to play here this evening."

"Sure, sure! I'm Elda. Just play an' speak to me once you're done. I don't know you, so I won't pay much. 'specially since that famous youn' bard is here tonight as well. All the girls wooin' over him! I'd wish Susanna would serve the other customers just as well as she is cooin' over that boy. Whatever. Just do what you came for an' you might stay for the night." 

Elda walked around the bar and led me through the door next to it, then showed me my room. It was the first one on the left side, directly behind the bar. I thanked her and closed the door, then went on to prepare myself. This was going to be my first concert outside Braidwood Inn and I was getting nervous. I stepped out of my plain beige travel dress and pulled out my second one, the only difference being the colour. This one was light green and looked great to my ruby red hair. Iddra had given it to me this year on my 18th name day and I since wore it for my concerts at Braidwood Inn. As soon as I told her I wanted to go travelling, playing in the big cities and making friends, she promised me she would get me an emerald one with lace for my next name day, if she heard I was becoming famous. I thanked her and declined her notion, such a gown would be so expensive! Iddra had smiled at that and said she was always impressed by my modesty; it was so unfitting for a bard that wanted to live lavishly in the greatest courts of this country. Well, I felt like I still only deserved to dress as simple as possible for I surely wasn't good enough already to pull much attention on me, anyway. 

I took my hair brush out of the bag and combed through my travel-tangled hair. It fell in wavy ringlets around my shoulders, descending just beneath my breasts. My hair had never been so long before, it really enjoyed not being twisted up for work in the fields. When it was soft and shiny again, I gathered up a thick streak on the left side, plaited it and rolled it into an ornamental bun. I didn't want to overdo my hair; I also lacked the ability for complex hair styles, but I remembered this one from my mother. As soon as my hair was long enough for braiding, she would do two plaited buns on each side of my head just before sunrise and then the family would go to work in our fields. In the evening she would loosen my buns again and on special occasions she allowed me to let my hair stay open or plait one bun and adorn it with handpicked blue mountain flowers that grew around our home in abundance. 

Once my hair was done, I felt presentable, took my worn-down lute and headed out of my room, up the stairs. The mead room under the roof was full almost to bursting and everybody seemed to have a great time. I noticed that the men were sitting rather around the edge of the hall while the girls and women seemed to bustle closer to the hearth, where the music came from ... 

"Our hero, our hero claims a warrior's heart ... I tell you, I tell you, the Dragonborn comes ..."

My favourite song! I stopped a bit behind the crowd, listening in awe. Oskar used to play it for me when he was still interested in learning the lute. Somehow the tune always spoke to my soul, ledning me a feeling of bravery and calmness, letting me know that there were still good powers left in this land of war and sadness. 

"With a voice wielding power of the Ancient Nord art ... Believe, believe, the Dragonborn comes ..."

The longer I listened, the more I felt that pull, calling me. I carefully took hold of my lute, checked if it was tuned right, and started playing in tune with him. The patrons between us parted in awe, surprised and enchanted. The bard looked up and gave me a bright smile. For a moment he seemed caught offguard by somebody daring to join him but he quickly recovered and took a little bow towards me as a sign of greeting. He was wearing very elegant clothes so stylish I had never seen anything similar before; a red and white striped, blustered shirt with a brown-golden leather jacket over it, both cut with a high collar and topped off with a large brimmed hat worn askew. I felt underdressed but this was my moment to shine, so I put on my best smile, bowed back while playing on and joined him on the next line.

"It's an end to the evil of all Skyrim's foes ... Beware, beware, the Dragonborn comes ..."

Each of us took a few slow steps towards the other, never breaking eye contact, never putting our lutes down. 

"For the darkness has passed and the legend yet grows ... You'll know, you'll know the Dragonborn's come."

We ended perfectly synchronic on the last note and bowed to each other again, now only standing a meter apart. The patrons went mad with applause and called for more, so we bowed and smiled to them too and the bard asked me quietly: "Which songs do you want to play now?" 

~

The crowd seemed unpleasable with silence, so we played through a few more traditional songs until our fingers went numb and our voices got hoarse. I was too shy and new in this business to call off the crowd, but after ending with "The Tale of the Tongues" my duet partner called for a stop: "Ladies and Gentlemen, I understand your need for more songy by my mystery partner! Alas, my tankard has gone empty as has my capability to go on for now. I am sure you will let us rest for an hour now and if you wish to go on again by then, the pleasure will be mine!" He winked at me and bowed very low while the patrons fell into a roaring applause before sitting down or getting refreshments. The bard came out of his bow with a playful smile on his lips again and looked at me intensely as if he wished to read my mind. I knew this was a game of flirtation; unfortunately, I was only a mediocre player since I lacked the experience. 

"You're not a bad singer", was the only approach I could come up with. It was quite bland and not very elegant, so I partnered it with a shy smile. Fortunately, he took it as seductive sarcasm and broke into The Dragonborn Comes again, this time whispering a modified version into my ear: "Our hero, our hero who indeed claims this warrior's heart; I told you, I told you and the Dragonborn came." 

The bard regained an arm length of distance, staying in reach and looking me all over, exactly knowing I was prickled in goosebumps. Speaking in an enticing low voice again he introduced himself: "How foolish of me not to introduce myself! My name is Alec, the Prince of Song. Pleased to make your aquaintance." 

Barely holding myself together, I could only stammer. "Thank you, that's very kind!" Immediately I thought myself stupid; that didn't even make sense. But Alec, skilled flatterer he is, gave a smooth reply: "Kindness holds no place over honesty. I speak only the truth. You are truly inspiring, a beautiful muse for the beating heart of a musician. Would you honor me by attending my concert tomorrow in the Palace of the Kings? I would klike to offer you a place of honor in the very best row."

"Oh yes! Thank you so much!" 

Alec took my left hand, bowed low again to kiss it and whispered in my ear again: "I will look for you tomorrow, beautiful muse."

I couldn't say another word and stood there beaming until the bard had gone. He was probably lodged with the jarl since he was playing concerts in his palace. As soon as my thoughts were clear again I looked around me for a chair to sit and rest a bit. There was only one left at a table far at the back, where an elderly man in finely ornamented clothes sat writing. I approached him: "My lord, is this seat taken already?" 

At the sound of my voice he glanced up, only for a moment, and answered: "No, my lady, please sit down."

Curiosity got the better of me and so I asked: "My lord, if I may ask, what kind of writing do you do?"

"I write drama, friend. The legends and history of Skyrim made to inspire. Poor Giraud Gemane at the Bards College in Solitude has been waiting for my latest work, 'Olaf and the Dragon', for weeks now, but roads are a mess. You do not, by chance, pass Solitude?"

"Unfortunately not very soon, my lord."

"Mhh. Oh well. How disappointing."

He continued writing for a while, then ordered a tankard of ale for me and himself as Susanna the serving wrench passed our table. I was surprised at his kindness. "My lord! You won't need to pay for my ale! How kind of you." 

"Oh that's alright, I can see that you're still young and your clothes tell me you haven't played many concerts before, so I want you to save your well-earned gold and just toast to my health. I know Elda will cheat on your payment by claiming not having to give her your gold for her 'gracious' rooms is more than you would deserve. But I disagree. I watched you join Alec and then play the other songs together and I must say, I admire your voice and see a lot of potential. Have you considered going to Solitude to join the Bards college?" 

The Bards college? Yes, I had thought of it. Oskar had thought of it too, but never come back. I was afraid I would share a similar destiny and I also lacked the coin for staying in Solitude for a prolonged period. The man kept watching me and must have seen the split feeling of desperation and longing on my face, for he made me an offer.

"Young lady, I will hire you for work, if you would like to take this opportunity. Take my book to Giraud and tell him I, Adonato Leotelli, sent you in person. And please, take this purse; you will need it to get new travel gear and pay for lodgings on the way and in Solitude herself. If you have any coin left, keep it as payment for work well done. Also, this letter will give Giraud further instructions what to do with you. Now, please, leave me alone; I feel like a new idea is coming."

I bowed low to Lord Leotelli, thanked him again, took my lute, the book, letter and purse and as quietly as I could removed myself from the upper floor. My heart was fluttering with excitement, not sure if the meeting with Alec or this unique opportunity was the true reason behind it. I approached Elda for my payment about the hours I sang with Alec today, but as Lord Leotelli foretold, she chickened out and told me I was only putting myself on Alecs fame and therefore she wouldn't pay me anything. The purse for the voyage to Solitude felt stury in my hand so I threw hear a lighthearted smile to signal her I wouldn't need her few coins, went to my room and packed up my belongings again. Tomorrow I would buy new travel gear, visit Alec's concert and set out by night carriage. 

I lay down in my bed and stared at the ceiling, impressed by how much had changed in such a short time. Suddenly I could feel the tiredness deep in my bones caused by this long, exciting and exhausting day and drifted off to sleep, vaguely dreaming of a handsome looking bard and a redheaded young adult lost in a dusty crypt.


End file.
